


হাসি (Hashi)

by orphan_account



Category: JBJ (Band)
Genre: Canon Compliant, Fluff, Humor, M/M, OH and there's some profanity, a lot of denial with undercurrents of pining, bc some things are just difficult to express with the same level of passion as the f word, but u can like ignore it bc it's so minor, implied nyangbin and sogyun, ish, not really humor bc i'm like the least funny person on earth
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-17
Updated: 2017-12-17
Packaged: 2019-02-16 07:22:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,767
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13049271
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: All Donghan knows is that helovesto annoy Kenta.





	হাসি (Hashi)

**Author's Note:**

> this was just supposed to be a little drabble centered around kenta's laugh but then i have no idea what happened
> 
> ALSO HUGE HUGE THANK YOU TO EVON @[aroha](http://archiveofourown.org/users/aroha/pseuds/aroha) AND ZEA @[zeazus](http://archiveofourown.org/users/zeazus/pseuds/zeazus) FOR BETA-ING AND SAVING THIS FIC AS WELL AS BEING MY EMOTIONAL SUPPORT THROUGH WRITING IT!!!! I LOVE YOU GUYS AND WOULD DIE FOR U 100%

Donghan knows that there should be a limit to how much you think about someone in a day before it stops being platonic, but that doesn’t stop his brain from fixating on Takada Kenta anyway.

There’s a million reasons for this, but the one he likes to tell himself as means of explanation is the fact that Kenta is, frankly, the most entertaining person on earth. 

It's not that he's particularly funny, mind you — though not for lack of trying — but Kenta’s so absolutely fun to be around because of who he _is_. Or, rather, how he _reacts_ , because Kenta’s reactions to Donghan’s antics are real and true delights, each and every time, and Donghan will take any given opportunity to capitalize on that.

“Hey, hyung….hyung!”

Kenta yelps to attention as a magazine flies out of nowhere and hits him in the cheek, startling him, before it flops sadly onto the floor. Across the room, a shaking Donghan rolls onto his sides in laughter.

“Yah! What the hell!” Kenta exclaims as he stands up abruptly. He rips his headphones out of his ears before plucking the magazine from the floor.

(To Donghan, this is the best part: Kenta’s initial disbelief. It's so funny because every reaction is a novel experience — Kenta, for some reason, never expects it every time Donghan messes with him, no matter how many times he does something stupid. This is because Kenta is naïve enough to genuinely forget that Donghan should probably never be trusted.)

While Donghan is too busy chortling, Kenta rolls the magazine, strides over to jump on him, and hits the idiot’s stomach repeatedly. It doesn't do much — Donghan just laughs harder and it's not like Kenta was hitting him that seriously, anyway. 

“You-” Donghan sputters between gasps, slapping Kenta’s arm. “Your face-”

“What about my face!” Kenta hits him in the side again while Donghan feebly tries to defend himself. "Tell me, you brat!”

It takes another thirty seconds before Donghan can catch his breath enough to reply. “Sorry,” he breathes out through the lingering chuckles, head lolling back onto the couch. Donghan’s not actually sorry, especially not with what he's about to do again, but Kenta never stops to doubt him. Donghan sees the other trying to fight off his own grin, even though he’s pretty sure he has absolutely no idea what’s going on.

(It's sweet in a way, Donghan knows in his mind underneath everything, because even when Kenta is the butt of a joke, he'll stop to laugh with you anyway.)

“You're so fun to annoy- wait!” Donghan exclaims as Kenta raises the magazine again. “Let me finish! I had something to say-”

Kenta lowers the rolled magazine in expectation.

“I wanted to show you something,” Donghan explains, before leaning over the couch to pick up his phone, the action making Kenta slide off so he’s beside him instead. The younger knows exactly how this is going to roll over with the other boy, but that doesn't stop him from scrolling through his phone to locate the song anyway. 

Kenta’s mouth unconsciously forms itself into a small ‘o’ as he’s leaning into Donghan, peering into the screen curiously, magazine debacle already forgotten. There's a lack of space between them that Donghan notices all of a sudden: their sides are pressed together and the expression on the other boy’s face is so distractingly cute that Donghan has to gulp to shake the unwanted nerves away.

“Go stand over there a little,” he orders, before his face can take the opportunity to heat up. 

(Donghan would stop to think about why Kenta’s nonchalant proximity affects him so much, but that opens up the floodgates to a lot of things he's not really ready to think about just yet.)

Kenta glances at him questioningly but he complies anyway and moves to stand across the small room, facing Donghan. “Why do I have to stand here, though?” Kenta wonders aloud only for a second, before his eyes widen as realization dawns on him.

“Kim Donghan, I swear to God and all His angels that if you play Despacito one more time I'm going to throttle you with my own-”

The dulcet tunes of a Puerto Rican cuatro cut him off, as Daddy Yankee's sultry voice goes, _Ay_.

In a flash, Kenta has crossed the room and jumped on Donghan again, hitting him with the magazine he forgot to drop as Donghan quakes in laughter, the scene an utter contrast to the melody playing in the background. 

Donghan laughs so hard he forgets his own name for a brief moment, and soon enough, Kenta’s laughing too. Two minutes go by with them tangled together, shaking with mirth.

There’s a moment after, where it’s silent and they’re all but deflated from the spent energy, when Kenta gives Donghan a final whack on his shoulder. He gets off and nestles in on the other side of the couch, muttering fond curses under his breath to resume his choreography review session. 

(It’s then that Donghan takes the chance to glance over to him, and wonders if it’s possible that Kenta’s smile could be the most beautiful thing in the world.)

 

 

 

“Donghan, if you don’t want to go, then just say so.” 

“I don’t want to go.”

“Ugh, not _actually_ , you dunce,” Kenta chides, grabbing a corner of the blanket and wrenching it off of the younger before Donghan can stop him.

Donghan simply groans and rolls onto his stomach so he’s face-first into the bed, his baby blue pyjamas riding up his thighs until they’re barely covering him. “ _Why do you even bother giving me the illusion of a choice if you’re just going to betray me so early in the morning?_ ” his muffled voice comes from the pillow. Kenta laughs and yanks the pyjamas down to restore the slight modicum of modesty Donghan's not even trying to preserve.

“It’s not early. You just slept late,” Kenta says, ignoring his empty jiving as he climbs into the bed. “You were playing games at four a.m. again, weren't you?” 

The younger blushes; he wasn't, but he's not about to tell Kenta he was busy watching video compilations of the older boy’s laugh either, especially when the boy in question decides to lie down on top of Donghan in that same moment.

“ _Nnnh…..crushing me….._ ” Donghan’s muted voice mumbles instead. Kenta readjusts himself on top of the younger so his head rests beside Donghan’s right ear. Donghan wriggles his shoulders and it shakes them both, and Kenta has to put a hand on either side of them and re-adjust so he doesn’t slip off.

(Donghan was already more awake than he let on, but with Kenta's body flush on top of his, any semblance of sleep left in him flies out the window in record speed as he becomes hyper-aware of every single touch of Kenta against him. He curses mentally — why the fuck does his brain have to be so stupidly aware of every hot-blooded male near him? A small part of him reminds him that it's not just _any_ hot-blooded male, just the one currently on top of him, but he's already made a working habit of ignoring it.) 

Suddenly, there’s a tickle in Donghan’s right ear. What feels like something soft brushes against his lobe, and then- “I’ll get up if you promise to be a good boy and listen to me,” whispers the other. 

It’s clearly meant to be playful, but everything about the situation is so unexpected that Donghan jolts and accidentally knocks Kenta’s head with his own as they both recoil, the older boy rolling off of him in pain. 

“That hurt!” Kenta yells, holding his head, although he quickly recovers. “Shit, are you okay? I didn’t mean to startle you,” he apologizes with a slightly embarrassed laugh, placing a hand on Donghan’s head and massaging it lightly.

It doesn’t really hurt that much, but the scowl in Donghan’s sleep-puffed face eases regardless as Kenta's slender fingers soothe the small throb in the back of his head, the smooth motions sending small waves of relaxation through him-

“What the hell was that, hyung?” he questions as he abruptly sits up, Kenta’s hand falling away from his head. He doesn’t want the older boy to see the raging blush currently occupying his cheeks, in case he gets an ill-timed massage-boner or something this early on in the day.

“I’m sorry! I was trying to give you an incentive to get up,” Kenta exclaims. “I think it came out wrong, though,” he mutters as Donghan notices the slight pink in his cheeks. 

( _Really, really wrong,_ Donghan’s idiot brain supplies helpfully. Donghan doesn’t need to be reaffirmed, the words _good boy_ ringing in his head over and over again.)

“That was horror movie material,” Donghan lies instead, knowing full-well that the only scary part about it is how much Donghan internally enjoyed that questionable query.

“Well, at least you’re up now,” Kenta cracks, to Donghan’s chagrin. 

 

 

 

(The most dangerous thing about Kenta is that he is so, so _oblivious_. Donghan doesn’t even have to tell anyone for it to be pretty clear to the rest of the group that his feelings had been pouring over out of the figurative kettle that was his heart. But as fate would have it, the only person who remained blissfully ignorant was the boy responsible for the feelings themselves — 23 year old Takada Kenta.

“Oh my God, Kim Donghan, at this point if you don’t tell him, _I_ will,” quips Taehyun one day in their practice room, a little too loud, when he catches the younger boy zoned out and staring at Kenta, who’s practicing his part of the choreography with all the focus of a torpedo nailing its target. Donghan immediately slaps a hand over Taehyun’s mouth, looking over at the dancer in alarm. Thankfully, Kenta didn’t hear them, only catching Donghan’s mortified expression in the mirror.

“What? What did I miss?” Kenta stops mid-routine to ask, perplexed. Taehyun makes a sound rendered incoherent by Donghan’s palm.

“Nothing!” Donghan responds, coming off a little forceful as he tries not to yelp when Taehyun licks his palm in an effort to free himself. “Hyung is just being annoying as usual,” he adds before squeezing his hand over Taehyun’s mouth a little tighter. Luck seems to be in his favour though, because Kenta only shoots the both of them another suspicious look before going back to his routine.

Taehyun slaps Donghan’s arm away from him, muttering a soft but passionate _brat_ under his breath. “I should have exposed your ass a long time ago,” he threatens.

“Hyung, the only reason you haven’t is because you know I’d burn your insoles first thing,” Donghan threatens backs, nonchalantly. Taehyun gasps in offense, but Donghan’s not paying attention, too busy stealing glances at the dancing boy caught up in his element.

He would never admit it, but in the rare moments when Donghan comes to terms with himself, he knows this is exactly the innocent naiveté of Kenta’s that he finds so completely endearing.)

 

 

 

 

It’s one of their more free days, when the five of them file in one by one into their dorm. There was only one schedule that they had to attend as a group — a fanmeeting, and then an individual schedule for Sanggyun. It’s at that point where the exhaustion from the ongoing onslaught of hectic weeks seizes the opportunity to seep into their bones. 

Hyunbin and Yongguk retreat together to their room, with Hyunbin chasing after Torby as soon as he sees him, cooing. Yongguk follows suit in a mix of amusement and a slight tinge of concern for his babies. No one interrupts them: they know better than that, because once Hyunbin and Yongguk close the door, they might as well be living in their own world. Donghan, Kenta and Taehyun pile together into one couch, Kenta and Taehyun sitting on each side while Donghan spreads himself across their laps. 

They stay like that, content in letting the silence eat up the fatigue sitting on their shoulders, but after a bit, Taehyun excuses himself. He pats Donghan’s legs gently before slipping out from under his lumbering figure, citing drowsiness as he retires to their shared room.

Another moment passes with Kenta and Donghan laying on the couch in stillness, neither of them speaking, not really sure how to acknowledge the sudden unspoken emotion hanging in the air.

“This is really real, huh?” a small voice speaks up eventually, and Donghan looks up from Kenta’s lap to examine his face. 

The older boy’s not looking anywhere at first, staring off into space, but then he blinks slowly and looks down to meet Donghan’s eyes. The younger recognizes the whirl of emotions in his pupils: mostly starstruck, somewhat confused, and a little bit of disbelief. Donghan knows because his eyes mirror the same maelstrom, his heart striking the same gong of something that he can’t quite explain, yet somehow can’t get enough of.

The formation of JBJ was — _is_ — a reality so surreal, Donghan has to convince himself at times it’s not something he’s fabricated in his dreams. And he knows he’s not the only one that feels that way, knows he’s not the only one drowning in dubiety at their unexpected existence as a group — so he finds Kenta’s hand, and he squeezes, tight.

“It is, hyung,” Donghan states, definitively, to himself as much as to Kenta. “It’s real.”

A wistful smile ghosts the older boy’s lips. There’s a look in his eyes that the younger can’t quite recognize, but it strikes a different kind of gong in his heart that he is more than familiar with.

“I’m happy I can share this with you, Donghan,” Kenta says, softly, and Donghan’s heart squeezes harder than his hand.

 

 

 

 

Later that night, after Sanggyun returns to the dorm, he cleans himself up and comes straight to Donghan and Taehyun’s shared room. For a full minute, Donghan sees him hovering at the doorway, looking too much like he had something to say, yet not knowing how to explain it.

“Gyun? You’re back already?” Taehyun asks as he looks up groggily, waking from his nap as Donghan clears his throat louder than necessary.

He knows enough about the nature of Sanggyun and Taehyun’s relationship to recognize the hesitation in Sanggyun’s eyes, so taking the unspoken hint, he leaves the room, slapping a reassuring hand on Sanggyun’s shoulder on his way out with a _good luck, hyung_ for effect, in case he needs it. 

He wordlessly slips into Kenta’s room, the latter sprawled out stomach-side down on his bed, gaze fixated on his phone screen as Japanese letters stare back at him in what Donghan can only assume is an article of some sort. 

The younger knows he could just as easily take Sanggyun’s unoccupied bed while he’s gone (for however long that is), and for a moment, he stands there contemplating quietly. 

Kenta hadn’t noticed him yet, too absorbed into the phone screen, and Donghan wonders if he should just leave him alone and slip into the covers quietly. But then again, if he were to skip an opportunity presented this easily, his name wouldn’t be Kim Donghan in the first place.

So, he tiptoes up behind the bed, reaching over slowly, and he pinches the soft skin of Kenta’s left buttcheek — _hard_ — through the fabric of his trousers.

Kenta, startled, drops his phone on his bed and curses loudly as he flips around to look at the perpetrator, his face the poster characterization of alarm. 

Donghan leans over at the force of his own laugh with a hand on his stomach, aggravated even further when Kenta picks up his pillow to throw at Donghan but it doesn’t make the whole distance and lands on his bed in a sad slump.

“Why are you like this,” Kenta whines, pouting. His pout is wobbly though — the telltale signs of a smile tug at the corner of his lips. “I was so not prepared for that.”

(Donghan finds the other boy’s look so irresistibly adorable that he just wants gather him up and hold him, even though he’s well aware that he himself is the reason for his mock distress.)

“Sorry, that was just too easy,” Donghan chimes, tossing the pillow back to Kenta as he crawls into the bed beside him, the other boy moving to make space for the both of them. 

“Gyun hyung’s talking to Taehyun hyung ‘in private’,” he remarks with air quotations. “I got kicked out.” _Kicked out_ isn’t exactly the right phrase; Donghan was really just looking for another excuse to annoy Kenta again.

“Oh? Sanggyun’s back?” Kenta asks when Donghan settles in just above him, turning sideways to face Kenta. “Yup,” Donghan replies, popping the ‘p’.

Kenta picks up his phone and puts it away on the ground beside him, before turning to face Donghan too. He throws a hand over the taller boy’s torso, and snuggles in and buries his face into Donghan’s chest, rendering the gap between them nonexistent.

The thing is, Donghan knows that platonic cuddling is a thing, has done it countless times before with so many different people and he’s more than aware that it doesn’t need an explanation.

But somehow that’s not enough to stop his heart from beating out of his chest, each pump of blood a resounding boom in the sudden echoing silence.

The way Kenta curls in on him feels like a snapshot captured from one of Donghan’s more indulgent daydreams, except the warmth against his body is as real as his hammering heart threatening to explode with every second that passes.

Kenta must have heard it, because he looks up from his chest to peer curiously into the other boy’s eyes. Donghan is enamoured by his beauty again when it’s so up close: his doe eyes, his smooth skin, the straight line of his nose, his baby soft cheeks and his full beautiful lips — the very ones that he can’t stop staring at whenever it turns upwards into that dazzling smile that captured his currently hammering heart in the first place.

“Hodu, are you okay? Your heartbeat,” Kenta mentions concernedly, putting a hand over his chest. 

“I-” Donghan stammers, in a rare moment of being openly flustered. _Tell him it’s because you laughed. Tell him it’s because you thought of something funny, Tell him it’s becau-_ his brain urges seamlessly, but it’s like his heart took one look at Kenta’s face and immediately put his voice in a chokehold.

“Donghan-” Kenta tries to sit up, obviously concerned, but Donghan reflexively grabs his shirt in an effort to stop him from moving away. Unfortunately, he accidentally pulls Kenta too hard, because the younger boy lands straight on his chest with a loud _thump!_.

They look at each other for a moment, stunned at what just happened, before Kenta lets out a short laugh.

“What the hell,” he states flatly, but he doesn’t move, making Donghan even more aware of how they must seem with Kenta on top of him, face hovering above his. They lock gazes, and Donghan can’t stop the rush of emotions anymore, can’t bring himself to pretend as he looks at Kenta’s lips and simply _wants_ , as he has for so long, to just close the never-ending gap between them.

And for once, for once in the short yet simultaneously infinite amount of time he’s known Kenta, he feels like he’s not the only one.

That little spark of a feeling is all it takes for him to lift and press his forehead against the other’s, slowly, gently, tentatively.

At first, Kenta doesn’t do anything except stare back, their eyes locked in a showdown. Time simultaneously slows down and speeds up in the second or two that passes, but then God grants Donghan a wish he’d been too afraid to ask for as Kenta leans down and presses his lips against his softly.

The little seed of doubt that had planted itself into his brain for all this time blooms into a full-grown flower of pure unadulterated bliss as Donghan kisses Kenta back. The feeling is so new yet natural that Donghan wonders if everything in his life had lead up to this moment, if everything else in his life was only relevant relative to this specific event.

It’s soft at first, a little uncertain, especially since nothing had been addressed out loud, but as they both settle into the feeling of reciprocation and the other’s lips against their own, Kenta brings a hand up against Donghan’s face and kisses him deeper. Donghan sighs and the other boy takes the opportunity slip his tongue into the other’s mouth. The feeling is so addictive that Donghan can’t get enough, reaching up and tangling his fingers through Kenta’s locks and bringing them closer than he knew was even possible.

Kenta licks up across Donghan’s teeth and then the roof of his mouth as he re-adjusts himself so he’s completely on top of the other boy’s body. Donghan wraps a leg around Kenta’s, but then Kenta’s pulling back, pecking Donghan again and staring down at him.

The look in his eyes leaves Donghan more breathless than he already was, what with him staring at Donghan with hooded lids, his beautiful eyelashes the graceful centerpiece of his gaze that only seemed to convey desire. He almost wants to take a picture, to store this moment and file it away in his memories so he can look at it again and again and again, for the rest of his life — but then Kenta’s smiling, and Donghan’s already forgotten what he was thinking about.

“Well,” Kenta starts, gently leaning his forehead against Donghan’s again. “That was an unexpected surprise.”

Donghan almost laughs, because, _fuck_ , was that an understatement.

“You have no idea how long I’ve been wanting to do that,” Donghan blurts out much more needily than he wants to, but somehow he can’t find it in himself to care all that much.

But then Kenta mutters a little ‘ _Me too_ ’ and he feels the butterflies in his stomach burst into a million fireworks.

 

 

 

 

( _You think they’re sleeping?_ a voice whispers, peeking in through the doorway to the figures tangled together on Kenta’s bed. Taehyun nods firmly to Sanggyun in affirmation.

 _After all that making out they probably did? Hell yeah,_ Taehyun replies.

“We can hear you.” 

The less-than-discreet figures in the doorway quickly scramble at the sound of Donghan’s voice while Kenta snickers in his arms.)

**Author's Note:**

> the title of the fic means laugh in bengali n that's bc i have no creativity n jus point at a word in my native language 
> 
> also u can follow me at @[punchzello](https://twitter.com/punchzello)!!! i'm always looking for more jbj mutuals (esp ones who ship hodken) xP


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